Emmet's Magic Afro
by Crying Rivers
Summary: Emmet has decided to try a new hairstyle! It's eccentric, yes, but Ingo's main concern is what's coming out of it... (Obviously just a silly concept)


"Emmet…what is that on your head?"

Ingo couldn't believe what he was seeing, but no matter how much he slapped himself it wouldn't go away. No, the two foot long afro on his twin brother's head was all too real. It was a soft white, and had the consistency of whimsicott wool. Every time Emmet moved his head, the mass of hair swayed with it, bouncing back and forth with each one of his ecstatic movements.

"I wanted to try something different!" Emmet said, a smile spread wide across his face. "I think it looks really nice!"

Ingo sneered at his brother. _That hairpiece is silly, and very unprofessional, _he thought. _What would their challengers think if they saw that…thing…on his head?_ He watched Emmet play with his hair some more, and though he had a contempt for it, he had to admit that it was pretty funny. Ingo started chuckling to himself, but quickly straightened up to the matter at hand. He walked over to Emmet, and pulled his brothers' hands out of his head. With a sigh, Ingo began working his own hands into the mass of hair.

"If you are going to wear it, we might as well make it look acceptable."

Emmet beamed. It was rare that Ingo let him have his way, at least this easily. Of course, this was for a reason. Though Emmet wasn't a moron, he had a knack for getting into easily avoided situations. Ingo could never figure out if he did it all on purpose, looking for cheap thrills, or he was just unlucky. At least this time it wouldn't be life threatening, and could easily be fixed with a haircut.

After rubbing his fingers in Emmet's hair for a short while, Ingo realized he didn't have anything to actually _style _a hair-do. He was a subway boss, not a hair dresser, and the most he carried on him was a pocket comb, which he had unfortunately lost somewhere on the tracks that day. With a sigh, Ingo attempted to pry his hands out of Emmet's hair, which was hopelessly tangled from Emmet toying with it. After a bit of work, Ingo was finally able to free himself, and with one more pull came loose.

With that pull, however, came a clatter to the floor.

Ingo instinctively reached down to pick whatever it was up, believing it to be a pen from his breast pocket. After close…or not so close…examination, it became clear that what had fallen was not, in fact, a pen, but a shiny metal hair-pick.

The prongs were clean and unbent, the pick seemingly unused. The handle on it was white, with a fancy letter K inscribed on it. Ingo fingered the pick for a minute, inspecting not only it's quality, but any sign of an owner. He'd never seen it before, and he doubted it belonged to Emmet. Neither one of them were capable of keeping things that weren't themselves this clean, or this "un-broken", and there had been no time for shopping. It obviously did not fall from the ceiling, unless ceilings can now materialize hair care products, in which Ingo would have begged it for new stay in conditioner and something for his sideburns.

So the only possible culprit was…no, that was silly. How could an afro materialize a pick? The heat had to have been messing with Ingo's brain, yes, that's it. The air conditioner was out and it was unbearably hot outside. Both of the brothers' white shirts were soaked through with sweat, and they'd both kept their hats on their person to use them as fans. If only they had something to cool them off.

Another clatter.

Ingo looked up at the ceiling, hoping he'd been blessed with another gift of hair care product, and hoped to get a glimpse of who or what to thank. Nothing was there to see, only the same ceiling he'd been looking at for years. A bit defeated, Ingo decided to peruse the ground for what had fallen this time. After a minute or two of searching the immediate area, he still hadn't found anything. Just as he had given up, a click came from behind him, and a vibrating noise soon followed. It sounded almost like air, what he was hearing, but where could it be coming from?

Ingo turned to see Emmet, lounging in his chair and enjoying what seemed to be a small electric fan. He couldn't believe his eyes. The fan in Emmet's hand bore a sort of resemblance to the metal pick from before, the same clean white and an intricately embossed letter K on the handle. This could not be a coincidence.

"Emmet" Ingo hesitated "Where did you get that?"

Emmet slowed his air bathing for a moment, and sat up to look at Ingo.

"Oh! It was under my chair!" he said, simply. "I felt a little tug in my hair and 'boop!' Fan under my chair."

Ingo couldn't believe how lightly his brother was taking this. Scratch that, he could completely believe it. What was unbelievable was what seemed to be going on here. But he had to be sure.

"Emmet…" he began again "Has this been happening all day or-"

"Oh yes, it has! Or at least I think it has, I'm not entirely sure. It seems like everything I normally forget when we go to work just showed up under my feet today! I even recall specifically needing a 7 millimeter wrench when a little something broke (don't bother what it was), which I don't normally keep on me, who really does, honestly, that's silly, but a clatter later there it was!"

Emmet often got into trouble. Emmet often came home with strange things, but even to Ingo this took the cake. His brother had brought home a magic afro, almost like a giving tree. It took the stunned subway boss a moment to gather himself, a moment to try to regain reality, but it wasn't happening. His whole perception of what could happen had been shattered by something as simple as a hair-do. How was this even possible?

Then, of course, being the man he was, Ingo caught himself. A simple philosophy of his that could not be battled was "Never look a gift ponyta in the mouth". With a smirk, he regained his balance and went back to his brother, and began to stroke his hair.

"Emmet"

"Yes brother?"

"Do you know what we need around here?"

"Uh…aside from the obvious, I assume?"

"Yes, Emmet, aside from the obvious."

"Then no. Actually, yes! I do know what we need! I would really like something sweet right now, I haven't eaten for a while!"

Lo and behold, a white lollipop with a blue swirl on it plopped from Emmet's do, not sticking to a hair or shattering on the floor. It was actually very creepy, but Emmet didn't seem to mind, seeing as he snatched it up shortly after it hit the ground. After it had been in his mouth for a moment, Ingo noticed that through the glossy spit (ew), you could see the same K that had been on the other products bolded on the face. Ingo took note, that this not only proved that Emmet's hair had been creating all of these things, but it also had the capability of making food. Ingo smiled. This was good for him.

He called to his brother again.

"Emmet" he said, as sweetly as he could, "are you sure there isn't anything else we need?"

Emmet held his hand to his sticky chin for a moment, the lollipop having messied it. Then a soft glow came upon his face, as he realized something else he felt he needed.

"A joltik! Yes! A joltik would be very nice!"

Ingo would have palmed his face, had he not seen the fluffy afro wriggling. Soon, out popped a little yellow Joltik, a little white conductor's hat on it's head, and the all too familiar fancy letter K. Emmet excitedly reached up and lifted the small critter fro his hair, and began to play with it exactly how he used to play with his Galvantula when it was still small.

Amidst all of Emmet's cooing and kissing, Ingo could check another thing from his list of possibilities: it could also create living things. That was amazing hair, indeed.

This was shaping up well in Ingo's favor, and he felt as though he knew enough to try it out himself.

"Hmm, yes, it would also seem that we need a new bookshelf as well, and also a place for me to set my hat, or hat wrack being full and all."

Ingo stood there for a moment, awaiting his loot. Emmet just continued playing with the newly spawned Joltik, and the hair did not move an inch. Ingo frowned. This hair had just made a Pokemon out of thin air, yet it could not assemble a simple bookshelf?

"It doesn't make things that big." Emmet said, matter-of-factly. Ingo hadn't even considered that he could've been listening, he seemed so infatuated with that Joltik.

Hmm, so this thing did have limits. That was disappointing. Ingo was a bit sad that he couldn't get that new hat rack, but there was something else he wanted. A simple coffee mug would be nice, he'd lost his to several accidents, and hadn't had time to get another one. Sure it would work this time, Ingo confidently tries to appease Emmet's hair once again:

"A coffee mug would nice, something to drink brews and teas in."

Again, nothing.

This was irritating, what was he doing wrong? Emmet had gotten all that he'd wanted out of that hair, why wouldn't it do the same for him?! Why only Emmet? Ingo finally got that face palm, but it wasn't Emmet's fault this time.

He realized the afro only worked for Emmet.

No matter how hard he tried, it would only give Emmet what he wanted. No matter how hard or pleaded or how sweetly he asked, it would never work.

Emmet seemed to take notice of his brother's anguish, as he often noticed a lot of things, and began to frown. He looked to be contemplating his thoughts for a moment, and nodded at the little Joltik for confirmation.

"I really wish my brother had a nice coffee mug, then he could drink with me in the mornings."

Ingo looked up from his hands, and in his face was a shiny new mug. Emmet smiled as he held the mug up to his brothers face, assuring Ingo that he wanted him to have it. This gift was different than all the other one's though. Even though it was shiny and new, it was black with a brown band at the rim and base, and instead of the normal embossed K, there was a shiny N, just as fancy and luxurious as all of the K's.

The brother was almost in tears that his twin had thought of him, and nearly choked him in a hug (of course he nearly choked in Emmet's hair, so they were even).

Of course, good things do not last. By the next day the hair was gone, shaved back to normal. Ingo spit the coffee that he had been drinking from his new mug half-way across the room when he saw Emmet the next morning, with his normal clean cut hairstyle. According to Emmet, it had just gotten way too hot to keep his hair like that, so he cut it off.

In his disbelief, Ingo dropped his mug and it shattered on the floor. Emmet had broken his pick that morning, the electric fan had a short, the lollipop had been eaten and the joltik had runaway this morning, and was probably hiding somewhere impossible.

Neither one of them could keep things that weren't themselves clean or unbroken for long.


End file.
